


No Regrets

by sterica



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ableist Language, Canonical Character Death, Epilepsy, F/M, Mentions of Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 22:13:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterica/pseuds/sterica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When I had the bite...” she pauses, dwelling on it. “It was like I awake again. Like, fully awake with nothing tying me down. That feeling. I’ve never really got used to it. It’s like I’m flying. Even now. Even here.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> Please pay attention to the warnings in the tags and be careful that this work doesn't worry, upset or trigger you.

Erica has lost track of how much time she’s spent in the vault. The only constant is Boyd’s hand, pressing into hers, occasionally squeezing hers as a non-verbal ‘are you okay?’. She squeezes back, signalling that she is, even though both of them know that she’s not okay. Neither is Boyd. But they’re alive; and that’s something to be glad about. For now, they’re alive, for now, they’re not fighting anyone or anything. Maybe it’ll be okay.

She breaks through the silence. Too many silent hours in the vault turns her crazy. It would turn anyone crazy, to be honest.

“No matter what happens, I don’t regret it.” she says, Boyd flinching slightly at the unexpected sound of her voice, before squeezing her hand once more. She can’t remember the last time she let go.

“Regret what?” says Boyd, somehow managing to seem calm in the midst of it all. She doesn’t know how he does it.

“The bite.” She pauses slightly, thinking back in her mind. “Even if I... even if we—” she cuts herself off, unable to finish the sentence. But Boyd knows. She can feel it. Erica gathers herself before she starts speaking again. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t go back and change it.”

Boyd’s heartbeat shows that he feels the same. Erica is always conscious of her hand in his, thankful for the reassurance it provides. It doesn’t make her feel safe, but it makes her feel okay. Or, in any case, okay enough to not go crazy and start slamming herself against the wall in hope that someone will hear and rescue them.

“Derek’s looking for us.” Boyd tells her. It’s not a fact, but not a question either. An assumption, perhaps — Derek has to be looking for them, right? He wouldn’t just leave them to rot. He cares; he might not always show it, but they’re pack and that’s how it is and he wouldn’t leave them.

Maybe it is a fact, after all.

“He’ll find us.” Boyd speaks up again. But Erica doesn’t have to listen to his heartbeat to know how unsure he is. Not for the first time, Erica wonders if her life will end down in the cold vault. If she does die down here, she won’t go down without a fight. She’ll fight harder than she’s ever fought before.

Erica supposes there are worse ways to die.

*

Time passes. Neither of the Betas try and determine how much time. What’s the point? If they’re going to die, they’re going to die. And scratching marks into the walls whenever they think a day has passed is not going to change that. This isn’t a crappy prison movie. This is their life.

“I don’t regret anything either.” Boyd speaks up, as though the conversation had just happened. “I have you now.”

Erica leans over and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. It’s not anything special, but it’s the first kiss they’ve shared and she wonders why she hasn’t kissed him before.

“I used to have this stupid crush on Stiles.” she tells him. She’s not quite sure why she’s brought it up — most people don’t kiss their best friend in the world and then tell them about an old crush. “He was funny and awkward and he was nice to me. He was the only one who ever seemed to care. Before the bite. I was nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” Boyd says suddenly. “You were never nothing.”

“I felt like I was. I was the spaz.” she replies. Erica feels Boyd flinch slightly at the word — the way she’s always felt when it’s been directed her way. “You know, teenagers have no sympathy, do they?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “I remember when it started. It was just small then. Not full body seizures. I thought I could handle it. My parents didn’t take me to the doctor until I had my first full seizure.”

“I’m sorry.” Boyd tells her. “I can’t even begin to imagine—”

“I was half-asleep when it happened.” Erica cuts him off. “At first I thought I was dreaming. I could taste blood in my mouth. And then I was thrashing about and I couldn’t breathe and I felt like I was boiling alive and I thought I was dying, Boyd. I tried to scream but I could barely make a sound. I wasn’t in control of my body. That’s what scared me the most. I could be whoever I was but I would never be in complete control of my body. My parents must have heard something though. They came running in and I can’t remember much of the rest. They gave me a blood test at the hospital l and I threw up.”

Erica can tell from the silence that Boyd doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t quite know why she’s telling him all this. There’s nothing to do but talk, though, and so Erica talks. If it fills up the silence, it can only be a good thing, right? And Boyd is one of the only ones who ever listened.

“The seizures at school were the worst. I only had a split second warning and then I couldn’t breathe or move of my own accord. And people laughed. Like I was some kind of animal and it was their sick sport to watch me. Every time I felt like I was dying and every time they would laugh. Sometimes I wondered who would care if I did die. But I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.”

“You’re so brave.” Boyd tells her. “I don’t know how you did it.”

“The medication was awful. It made me fat and gave me spots and I felt like I was half-asleep for all my life. When I had the bite...” she pauses, dwelling on it. “It was like I awake again. Like, fully awake with nothing tying me down. That feeling. I’ve never really got used to it. It’s like I’m flying. Even now. Even here.” Erica stops.

“We’re going to be okay.” Boyd tells her. “We’re gonna get out of here.”

Erica smiles slightly through the darkness. It’s amazing how much comfort both of them find in a blatant lie.

“So, no regrets?” Erica asks.

“No regrets.” Boyd confirms, his hand still an ever constant in her life, keeping her tethered to reality, to life.

And Erica swears, if they weren’t in a vault of an abandoned bank, they’d be clinking glasses of champagne and toasting the future. But the thing is, they are in the vault of an abandoned bank. The door opens and Erica gets to her feet, squinting at the sudden light and letting go of Boyd’s hand along the way.

“I love you.” she tells Boyd.

He scrambles up, enclosing her in a hug. “I love you too.”

Like she said, there are definitely worse ways to die.

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot is really important to me as, like Erica, I'm an ex-epileptic and so I'd really appreciate feedback in form of kudos or comments! :)


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